


Take It In

by supercoolygirl



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bath Time, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:45:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercoolygirl/pseuds/supercoolygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa is better than Jon at everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It In

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Sansa gives Jon a massage and it's basically torture for Jon" by an Anon on tumblr.

After the Battle, after the coronation, after everything that has come between them, Jon cannot bear to begin the politicking that comes with wearing a crown. He soaks into the bath Sansa ordered drawn for him and hangs his face in his hands.

Sansa. She has been so good to him of late; a true Lady of the Keep. Not for the first time, Jon wishes she were not his sister. He needs her here, truly. If he could marry her then she would be safe and he would have someone beside him who knew what to do. She is so much more experienced regarding the cruel world than him. He has faced far more fearsome-looking things than Joffrey Baratheon, but he is not convinced he would have survived that King. Sansa is strong and sure like that.

The door creaks open and she is there, serene in dove grey, her red hair still braided. She comes to kneel beside his bath and smiles warmly at him. She trails her fingers in the water.

“Better?” she asks. “You seemed so stressed earlier, hopefully your muscles at least can be soothed.”

“You soothe me enough, sweetling,” Jon replies hoarsely.

“What was wrong? You wouldn’t tell me.”

Jon groans. “I hate politics. I hate diplomacy. Honestly, Sansa, if you were Queen I am sure this would be easier.”

“Pah!” Sansa spits, half-laughing. “They do not respect women, Jon. They might see the flaws in your diplomatic skills but I am not sure that my courtesies would serve us any better in public. I am happy to advise you in private.”

Jon leans his head forward on her arm. “What would I do without you?” he murmurs.

“You’d be very stressed indeed,” she says sweetly, a smile in her voice. She cards her fingers through his hair, the affectionate gesture so familiar and still so lovely. She is lovely.

“I know just how to make you better,” she teases, her lips to his forehead. He looks up at her and she stands, making her way around to the back of the bath.

“You’re so tense,” she says, her hands lightly fluttering over his shoulders. She firmly presses her thumbs into the tendons there, and Jon moans. Her hands, on him – this is too much.

She moves her hands up and down his upper back, everywhere she can reach above the water. When she strokes down his spine, from the nape of his neck all the way to below his shoulder blades, Jon realizes that he is not simply enjoying this because massages feel quite nice.

His cock wants her hands there, possibly even her lips there. He daren’t think what else he wants to feel. He bites his lip, struggling not to cry out. 

“Let me know when you want me to stop,” Sansa whispers.

He parts his lips in a silent cry, not knowing whether to say “Never” or “Now, please, also leave”. 

All too soon the bath grows cold and Sansa decides it is late and she must retire. She leaves and Jon sits hollowly in the cool water, wondering what the hell he should do about his attraction to his sister.


End file.
